JOST A MON

The idle ramblings of a Jack of some trades, Master of none

Dec 22, 2007

Always Out And About

Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds. Herodotus said this about the supremely efficient horsemen who delivered the Persian King's correspondence and intelligence across his empire. In my case, it describes the fact that irrespective of the weather or the time of day and night, I am expected to head out shopping.

Recently, we remembered that our painter would be coming in to do up the living room shortly and that we hadn't procured the paint for the job. I am too cheap to fork out twenty quid in delivery charges on a total purchase of eighty, so I found myself trudging to an industrial wasteland in search of the wife's favourite brand.

Farrow and Ball make pigments so creamy, so aromatic, so lush, so rich that anyone would love to drink them instead of, say, a milkshake. Naturally, they cost that much more than the likes of Dulux. Even the painter makes orgiastic noises when he runs his brush through one of their cans.

On my way to their outlet, muttering curses as passing cars splattered me with oily mud, I noticed a shop squeezed between a mom-and-pop corner store and an uncle-and-aunt restaurant. In the shop were some antique-looking cars, small ones, like those Hillmans or Morrises of the 1950s. Now those who know me appreciate my singular lack of interest in matters automotive. After all, my Layla back in the US was a Toyota Tercel, much to the hilarity of my friends. (Little do they realise that it is the choice of zippy police patrols in Guatemala). Indeed, when Liam asked me what my dream car would be, I couldn't think of anything (wilting under the pressure, I am afraid) other than a Ford Ka. The next day, after a sleepless night, I suggested that I could get along very nicely with a Delorean. Liam is talking to me again.

But the cars in that little shop were distinctive enough to make me pause. Figaro, it said on the logo on the bonnet. I looked around: there were four vehicles on display, identical except for the colour. I had never heard of a Figaro, and when I came home, I looked up the brand on the Internet. It's a Nissan model introduced in 1989. An award-winning retro design by Shoji Takahashi, twenty thousand were produced in 1991. The least popular colour of the time, Topaz Mist, has now become the most in demand by discerning aficionados. It's got everything a driver may want: CD player, air-conditioning, leather seats, and retractable roof. What's more, God owned one, and that's good enough for me. [Picture by Michiel2005]

2 comments:

laviequotidienne said...

"God"'s autobiography is also replete with a more or less complete account of punctuation marks called "rehab" - to which unlike Amy W he kept saying "yes, yes, yes" only to come out and going on repeating the same to white lines - I would wager he bought one of those in one of his clouded moments. Ce n'est pas impossible. Non?

Feanor said...

I take it you do not appreciate the fine lines and immaculate design of the Figaro? Quel blasphème! And didn't God clean up his act by 1991? Je pense qu'il a acheté la voiture à un moment de clarté sans drogues! Tu ne crois pas?

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